“Well, Mr. O’Rafferty, I’m sure you are putting yourself to too much trouble—”
“Throuble! D’ye call it throuble? Sure an’ isn’t it the brightest day I’ve knowed for iver so long?”
“Deed it is,” chimed in his wife. “Be off wid ye, Dinny dear, and hurry back with the poor boy. Sure I’ll keep the tay hot for him, an’ the praties, an’ the bacon.”
Any further remonstrance or objection was out of the question; so the boys took their seats at the table. The old man started off, and promised to be back in a “jiffy.”
He ascended the slope behind the house, and entered the woods by a pathway which, though but little trodden, was yet easy to traverse. Far different was this from the rough way by which the boys had crossed the island; and in far less time than they had taken, Denny approached the other shore. The pathway led down to the beach, about a hundred yards below the place where they had built their first fire.
As he descended, a singular sight met his eyes.
X.
New Attempts at Cookery.—Phil on the Lookout.—A Sail! A Sail!—The Signal of the red Shirt.—The Home of the O’Raffertys.
WE left Phil behind, on the beach.